


We People

by Trickster88



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trickster88/pseuds/Trickster88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Figure skating? Really?"</i>
</p>
<p>"I thought you people liked that kinda stuff?"</p>
<p>
  <i>"We people?"</i>
</p>
<p>I just can't get anything right.</p>
<p>Based on <a href="http://sebhummel.tumblr.com/tagged/mranderson">these</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We People

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [sebhummel](http://sebhummel.tumblr.com)'s [Mr. Anderson AU gifs](http://sebhummel.tumblr.com/tagged/mranderson). They are the cutest thing ever. <3

***

Mr. Anderson was not having a very nice day.

First, his case had taken an unexpected turn - the prosecutor had submitted a new piece of evidence that, while easy enough to dispel, would require several hours of paperwork on his end. Basically, it was a pain in the  _ass_.

Next, his car had broken down on the way home from work and he'd had to call a tow truck. A trip to the mechanic's was in order, and he simply didn't have the time for it.

Lastly, he was late for dinner.

While the last one might not seem a big deal to most people, Mr. Anderson found it quite distressing.

Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday were the days Blaine, his son, was home for dinner. 

Mr. Anderson hurried inside the large house, barely pausing to lock his rental car. Delicious scents wafted towards him from the dining room, and Mr. Anderson smoothly walked in, assuming a calm mask. Disappointment welled up in him when he saw that Blaine was not seated at the table - just his wife, Olivia.

"He's here, Tom." Olivia assured him, smiling and gesturing to the seat at the head of the table. "Just went to the bathroom. Sit down, have some chicken."

Tom sat down at the table, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall over the back of his chair. Olivia began serving him chicken and he smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing it gently when she'd finished. Olivia blushed and giggled at him just as Blaine walked in through the hall door.

"Hello Blaine." Tom greeted, trying not to sound too chipper. Blaine never responded well to enthusiasm, though Tom was at a complete loss as to why.

"Hi, Father." Blaine greeted back, staring fixedly at his chicken and answering in a dead monotone. Tom inwardly sighed.

"So, Blaine," Tom began after a moment, cutting into his chicken slowly. Olivia looked between her husband and her son, half-amused, half-sympathetic. "Did you make any plans for tomorrow?"

"No, not really, why?" Blaine asked sharply, eyeing his father with suspicion.

"Because I got us some tickets for that fancy Nutcracker On Ice show in town." Tom replied, keeping his voice level. He chanced a look at Blaine, and what he saw did not reassure him.

"Figure skating? Really?" Blaine sounded hurt and disappointed. Tom didn't know what to do.

"I thought you people liked that kind of stuff?" Tom set down his fork and knife, unable to do anything more than dig him farther into his own grave.

"We people?" Blaine repeated, sounding crushed and angry.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Tom hurried, but Blaine cut him off.

"Just leave it, dad." Blaine stood up, taking his plate with him as he walked out of the dining room. Tom let out a breath, hanging his head in his hands.

"I just can't get anything right." Olivia rested a hand on his shoulder.

"He'll come around sweetie, it just takes time. You say the wrong thing and he reads too much into it." Tom shook his head, poking at his chicken forlornly.

"That's just the problem though - he doesn't read  _enough_  into it. How can he not know I love him? He's my  _son_." Tom looked to his wife. "It's completely unfathomable to me."

"He'll come around." She repeated. Tom wasn't convinced.

***

Finding a good, decently priced mechanic took time.

So, it was only after several days of harried googling that Tom found Hummel's Tire & Lube, barely a half hour away from his house. It was in Lima, where Blaine went to school, and for some reason the name sounded familiar to Tom. Perhaps someone had recommended it once and he'd forgotten.

"Hello, what can I do you for?" A bald man in a baseball cap came out from a back office and crossed the garage to greet him. Tom smiled and held out his hand.

"I'm looking for a car repair and Google directed me to this lovely establishment." The bald man grinned and accepted his hand.

"My wife told me having a website would bring in customers, didn't think it'd work. Let's see this car of yours." Tom chuckled, deducing that the man must have been Burt Hummel, owner of the shop.

"It's right out this way, I had it towed here." Burt moved to exit the shop and Tom followed him.

"Let me guess, carborator trouble?" Burt hadn't even had a look under the hood, and he'd been able to tell what the problem was. Tom was suitably impressed. "I can get her fixed up for you within the hour."

"Fantastic." Tom moved to help Burt push the car inside the shop. "Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet. Tom Anderson."

"Anderson?" Burt asked, seeming surprised. "As in Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes, he's my son." Tom beamed at the man. "Do you know him?"

"My son's dating him." Burt replied, suddenly standofish and gruff. Tom's eyebrows furrowed. 

"Blaine didn't tell me he was dating anyone." Tom sounded deflated, and Burt watched him carefully, moving for his tools. "But I suppose he wouldn't."

"Why not?" Burt asked, sounding reluctant but curious. Tom could tell Blaine probably hadn't left his boyfriend or his boyfriend's family with the best impression of him.

"We're not exactly close." Tom sighed, leaning against an empty worktop.

"Why not?" Burt challenged, though not as frostily as he had a moment before.

"Being a good parent is not always easy," Tom said quietly. Burt didn't seem to have a problem in that department, judging by his expression. "When Blaine came out to me I didn't really know how to act around him. I just didn't expect it, you know?"

"He doesn't always seem like the type." Burt admitted, wrenching the hood of Tom's car up.

"His mom told me to make an effort and spend some quality time with him. I admit that building that car together was not the best idea." It hadn't worked out at all how he'd planned. Tom sighed forlornly.

"Now he thinks that I hate him, but he's my son and of course I love him just the way he is." Tom looked up to Burt, who stood frozen by his car. He'd obviously just changed every perception the man had built about him.

"I just haven't found the right way to show him yet." Tom let out a breath, looking towards the ceiling.  _Truer words had never been spoken_ , he though wryly.

"Well," Burt said. "It'll happen eventually. Organically." 

"I hope so." Tom muttered.

***

Saturday morning, Tom stood in the kitchen making pancakes. Olivia was still sleeping, and he figured he'd make her breakfast in bed. 

Blaine wandered down the stairs, summoned by the scent of fresh pancakes and syrup. Tom smiled at him and pushed a plate across the counter.

Blaine accepted it wordlessly, and Tom continued making pancakes in silence, allowing himself to pretend for just a moment that everything was right in the world, that he was just sharing a quiet moment with a son who knew he was loved and accepted.

"You're seeing somebody." Tom stated, completely and utterly calm. Blaine froze, his body rigid against the counter.

"Yes Dad, I have a  _boyfriend_." Blaine already sounded defensive and venomous. Tom just wanted it to end.

"Is it something serious?" Tom questioned lightly, making an effort not to sound disapproving or nosy. Although, Blaine would probably take it that way.

_Reading too much into it or not enough?_  Tom asked himself, wishing nothing more than to hug his son and ask him if he wanted to go see  _The Avengers_. Alas, his life was not so simple.

"I like to think so, yes." Blaine turned back to his pancakes, unwilling to meet his father's eyes.

"Why don't you ask him to come over tomorrow night?" Tom suggested, flipping another pancake onto Blaine's plate. His son looked up at him, a question lurking in his eyes. 

"I'd really like to meet him." Tom continued sincerely.

And Blaine smiled.


End file.
